Whenever I deal with doctors I always have a hard time remembering if it is a Hippocratic oath or a hypocritical oath that they take when they become doctors.
For the record I don’t go to doctors myself as a general rule but I have had dealings with doctors via others recently. But, I just love it when the doctor himself has to turn sideways to get his fat ass in the door and then he tells his patient that he or she needs to lose weight. It’s like Juju telling someone they need to be nicer to people. Doctors, apparently, have almost as much of a reputation for being heavy drinkers, as airline pilots do. I guess that’s why they insist on having you sign release forms all the time.
Anyway, when you go into doctor’s offices they always have the air conditioning blasting away, the magazines are usually old and they either have a medical video playing or a soap opera on TV. Then there are people coughing and hacking up phlegm and the others look like they should have a chalk line drawn around them and they should be waiting for the undertaker rather than the doctor. Pretty much if you weren’t sick when you walked in, you’ll be well on the way to it before you leave.
Then when the receptionist tells you, “the doctor will see you now,” you know she’s lying through her teeth because you’ll just go into another room and wait in there. Sometimes you have to undress when you get there too, which could be fun depending on what’s going through your head at the time.
I recall a conversation I had with a doctor years ago, after making it through all that stuff and finally being in his presence. It went pretty much like this:
Doc: Okay turn your head and cough.
Me: Wait a minute, I came here to have a wart removed.
Doc: Oh right, some idiot must have switched the charts on me again.
Me: (withholding laughter.)
Doc: Okay then, turn around and bend over.
Me: No, no, the wart is on my finger!
(I think, in retrospect, he was having his own issues.)
Doc: Oh yeah, then why did you get undressed?
Me: (Embarrassed) I don’t know it just seemed like the thing to do in a doctor’s office.
Doc: (looking at me strangely) Anyway, let me see your finger…I’ll prescribe some Prozac for you.
(Doctors are the ultimate drug pushers)
Me: I’m not depressed about it. I just want it removed.
Doc: Oh yeah, that’s right, the Prozac was for me. (Deep sigh) I wish I had been a proctologist.
I told you he had issues.